


A Promise

by nogitsune_lichen



Category: Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (god fuck seriously they are not related), Alternate Ending, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Because I lowkey hated the ending, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Fights, Fix-It, Getting Together, Kinda, Kylo Ren Redemption, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Not Related, Lightsaber Battles, Like you know but I don't write it, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 09:57:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nogitsune_lichen/pseuds/nogitsune_lichen
Summary: The man before her steps even closer into her space, his eyes are starting to narrow suspiciously, “then what are you fighting for?”“You! I’m fighting for you!” Rey screams, silencing the room.





	A Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh this is my first fic in this fandom. 
> 
> Sorry if it 1) sucks or 2) is OOC. 
> 
> P.S: Not beta'd but I did proof read it myself like seven times.

“ _ Ben _ !” 

Rey watches as Luke Skywalker’s saber flies through the air, her cry echoing in every direction. The sound of the saber’s blade burning a hole in the Praetorian guard’s skull drowns out the previous echo, the last red armored soldier promptly falls to the ground with a sickening thud. 

Ben tosses the guard’s weapon to the side and their eyes meet. 

There is tension between them, it is thick and it makes her head feel heavy. She thinks Snoke lied about the Force bond, this feels a lot like what she’s been feeling for the past few days. When Ben extends a hand out Rey feels her stomach turn, the hope that had been so alive beginning to finally fizzle. 

“Ben—?” Rey croaks out.

“It’s time to let old things die,” Ben heaves, still breathless from combat, “Snoke, Skywalker, the Sith, the Jedi, the Rebels—let it  _ all  _ die.” 

Rey listens to the seriousness in his words but she also sees the hesitation in his eyes. It gets more clear the closer he gets to her. Words want to form but the lump stuck in her throat keeps her quiet; it prompts Ben to speak again. 

“Rey. I want you to join me. We can rule together and bring a new order to the galaxy.”

She shakes her head before she speaks, finally finding her words, “don’t do this Ben. Please don’t do this.  _ Please _ don’t go this way.” 

Ben shakes with anger, “no, you’re still holding on! Let go!”

Rey feels her face harden as her shoulders square up to Ben, “I will never stop holding hope.” 

“Hope? Hope for what? That I will cross to the Light again? That I’ll be one of the good guys?” Ben snarls.

“Dark. Light. Grey.  This isn’t a good versus evil fight, there’s no true evil, and there’s definitely no good,” Rey says, voice breaking as her eyes sting with tears that threaten to blur her sight. 

The man before her steps even closer into her space, his eyes are starting to narrow suspiciously, “then what are you  _ fighting  _ for?” 

“You! I’m fighting for you!” Rey screams, silencing the room. 

She is getting tired of trying to get that point across to him; that he is someone worth fighting for, but he just can’t seem to get that. By the barest of threads she’s been hanging on to hope for him, and she has thought every shared moment between them on Ahch-To would turn that thread into a rope. A strong rope that she can continue to hold on to with confidence.

Confidence in him.

“Then you’ve been fighting a pointless battle,” Ben finally says. 

Rey refuses to believe that, that everything she’s fought for has been for nothing. It makes defeat leave a bitter taste in her mouth. Her veins are thrumming with determination as she calls out to the Force. The tips of her fingers itch and ache as they call to the saber currently being ripped from Ben’s grasp. 

The second her hands wrap around the cool metal and soft grips she ignites the blue blade, its glow illuminating their faces. Ben’s own saber comes to life seconds later, the crackling hum emitting from it making her skin pebble. 

Rey strikes first, a quick short jab that Ben blocks just in time. They battle like an intricate dance; one moment it is firm movements and one moment it is swift evasions and side steps. Rey puts her all into every motion despite the slice on her upper arm that protests with every swing. She can’t say the same for Ben who keeps blocking, dodging, but rarely going for a strike. 

“Come on!” Rey demands. “Fight me!” 

Ben glares at her, finally swinging and it almost gets her neck in one fell swoop. Rey jerks back, leg catching on fallen debris that sends her to the ground. Her body screams at the rough impact, shoulders quaking as the wind knocks out of her, and her hand loses its hold on her saber.

In the next moment Ben is hunched over her, his crimson weapon close enough for her to feel its deathly heat. 

Her eyes meet his to find him already staring her down.

“Do you want to know the truth about your parents or have you always known?” Ben asks, his voice surprisingly soft. 

Rey freezes, ignoring the tears that freely fall down her cheeks, not sure how to go about this. He leans in closer, his face just as close to the saber as hers now. 

“You know the truth,” he spits out, “ _ say it _ .” 

She feels like she’s a little girl again, looking up at the sky from the vast desert of Jakku. She can feel herself in that moment; her stomach hurts from hunger, her head spins from thirst, but most of all her heart aches for her parents. 

More tears wet her cheeks. 

“They were nobody,” Rey whispers.

Ben nods, “they were filthy junk traders. Sold you off for drinking money — _ dead _ in a pauper's grave in the Jakku desert.” 

Hearing it outloud is much more painful than twenty years of ignoring the truth. The old wound tears open and the heartache is so deep Rey forgets how to breathe. She hiccups, trying her hardest not to break down completely. 

“You have no place in this story, in this  _ fight _ , you’re nothing. You come from nothing,” Ben continues on and the saber is so close she can taste its energy on her tongue. 

Rey looks up at him again, she can feel her own sorrow heavy in her eyes. 

“Go on,” she says weakly, nodding to the weapon against her throat, “I won’t stop you.”

She prepares for her last breath. The last thing she is ever going see is the wounded eyes of Ben Solo, hiding behind the facade of Kylo Ren. Her head reminds her of everything she is never going to experience; a proper meal, a real bed, a day where she’s never had to fight for her life. 

Her eyes snap open when the heat around her neck fades and a sickening thud followed by a crack sounds beside her ear. Ben’s fist is on the ground next to her head and his saber is falling to the ground beside them. A frustrated, almost childish, sound comes from him as he rears back. 

He can’t do it. 

Rey sits up until they are seated in front of each other. 

It reminds her of their talk in the hut on Ahch-To. 

“Ben,” Rey says, voice raw, “talk to me.” 

The man in front of her tilts his head up. There are tears in his eyes and she catches the way his throat works around his hesitation. She doesn’t press, she wants him to speak in his own time, the ice they are sitting on is thin. 

She can’t afford to break it. 

“Why do you think this can be so easy?” Ben asks. 

Rey isn’t expecting that, but she answers. 

“What is so easy?” 

“I was sixteen when I joined Snoke, I’ve been feeling this— _ darkness  _ since I was much younger, it is not easy just to throw away something you’ve dedicated over half your life to,” he elaborates. 

“And I’m not asking you to throw  _ anything  _ away,” Rey says, scooting closer to him, but keeping enough distance for him to be comfortable, “I’m asking you to turn to a new page. You don’t have to forget what you’ve read, but you could start a new chapter.” 

Ben’s fists begin to unclench then, the leather gloves adorning his hands squeak with it. Rey doesn’t let her excitement show; instead she sits patiently, willing to listen or just be if he needed it. 

“I still don’t understand why you’re fighting for  _ me _ ,” Ben tells her. 

Rey uses the back of her hand to wipe at her tear stained face, giving Ben a small reassuring smile, “I care about you Ben. I think you deserve to have someone care about you.” 

Ben curls in on himself, shoulders shaking, and Rey watches a man break right in front of her. Her knees are carrying her towards him, closing the distance between them, until she can wrap her arms around him. His body is big and solid against hers, his hair is soft yet slightly damp against her fingers, and thankfully he doesn’t shove her away. 

It takes a long torturous moment until she feels arms wrap around her, holding her as if she is precious oxygen. Rey rocks them back and forth as the junction between her neck and shoulder provides Ben a safe space to let himself cry. She can’t imagine how long all of these emotions have been building up; the dark side uses these emotions as fuel, but she knows Ben has tucked them away over the years. 

Now it’s coming out all at once. 

“You’re alright,” Rey murmurs, “it’ll be alright.” 

Ben holds on tighter, and she knows he won’t believe it for a long time. One day, maybe. Today is not that day and that is okay. They hold each other for a few more moments; but it is interrupted when an ear shattering sound rings through the Supremacy. 

The whole craft jolts and it causes both of them to look out into the vast emptiness of space. The Resistance Cruiser is gone, bright white and an unimaginable number of debris particles float within the zero gravity environment.

The firing on the transports to Crait have stopped. 

She stands up and looks down to Ben, and before she can question it she extends her hand for him to take. He wavers a bit, unsure, but the conflict fades as his hand grasps hers and he stands beside her. Rey lets her eyes slip shut when he leans down, his lips pressed against her forehead.

It’s a promise. 

His eyes are bloodshot from crying, she can imagine hers are too. 

He has killed a lot of people, innocents, his father, heros. Those hands have commanded war strikes. Those hands have endured years of punishment and pain. It is those same set of hands that reach out to hers. 

For all the ugly things his hands have done, they intertwine with hers and it looks beautiful. 

It’s another promise. 

**Author's Note:**

> AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @ren--solo


End file.
